


Turning the Other Cheek

by Sath



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Eucatastrophe, F/F, Finduilas!Gil-galad, Fluff and Humor, Mirror Sex, Spit As Lube, Strap-Ons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-19 23:33:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5984680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sath/pseuds/Sath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finduilas, frustrated with listening to debates over grazing rights, carries a joke with Niënor as far as she can.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turning the Other Cheek

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amyfortuna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amyfortuna/gifts).



Gil-galad had been High King of the Noldor for two years. Finduilas had been Gil-galad for three. Sometimes Niënor could not believe that the Elves so readily believed their act; Círdan certainly knew, yet he had never said a word. Perhaps all of them were playing along, needing one last male to take the crown. Niënor needed only a false name—Níniel of the Haladin—and she could be her lady’s guard without further lies.

Learning the sword had been a great source of strength for Niënor. She felt the master of her fate at last, with Gurthang hanging at her side. The fall of Gondolin frightened them all, but the hope Finduilas had kindled in Niënor could not be extinguished, not after all they had overcome together.

Finduilas’s flame was flagging a little, as her council meeting dragged into its fifth hour. Being immortal made Elves reluctant to settle a matter until it had been debated, put into song, counter-debated, and then finally re-debated, in poetic verse. Niënor watched her beloved Finduilas slowly slump in her chair.

“If I may, my lords,” Niënor said, “I would suggest that the council reconvene after the plaintiffs have settled on the definition of ‘league.’”

Círdan raised his wineglass. “An excellent idea, Níniel.”

“I move forward with the decision,” Finduilas announced. “I will hear no more on the matter of pasturage rights until you have determined a standard unit of measurement.”

Elves were too polite to grumble, but a few eyes flashed a warning that Finduilas had not heard the last of the disputed cattle of Arvernien. As king, Finduilas was the first to rise, and Niënor followed her back to their chambers. Niënor had a room of her own, but it was so little used that she thought of it as an overgrown closet. 

As soon as Niënor shut the door behind them, Finduilas let out a frustrated huff. “If I had known how much of being a king involved listening to boors fighting over possessions instead of the Enemy, I would have arrived in Sirion as a princess. At least then I could tell them where to put their livestock!”

“And where would that be, sire? Up their hairless Elven arses?”

Finduilas burst into laughter. “Are you insulting the hairless Elven arse? I thought you were quite pleased with mine.”

“I have not seen it doing aught but sit for hours.” Niënor wished that she still had the patience left to tease Finduilas, but after all the wasted hours, she had none left. She started to reach for Finduilas, but she was pushed away with the lightest touch.

Backing away until she was standing in front of her vanity, Finduilas reached up to start undoing the fastenings of her doublet. “I must remind you of its glory, since you doubt. It will not do for a vassal to doubt the flawlessness of her king’s arse. Sit on the bed and observe.”

Niënor sat down. For a moment, Finduilas seemed almost shy—only her face and hands were ever exposed in public, now that she had to conceal her sex. She looked to Niënor’s eager face, smiling again as she pulled off her doublet. That left her silken undershirt, which she lifted over her head with an unkingly wriggle. Finduilas’s binding vest cleaved tightly to her skin, keeping her large chest boyishly flat. She struggled a little as she undid its laces, having to reach behind her back when Niënor was used to undressing her every night. Niënor ached to help her, already feeling the familiar heat between her legs as Finduilas changed into another self before her eyes. Sighing with relief, Finduilas dropped the vest to the floor. Two red lines crossed over her chest, just over the top of her heavy breasts. Niënor would always press her lips to the marks, tracing where the king ended and the maiden began.

Finduilas let down her hair next, pulling out each braid and knot with deft fingers. When she was finished, her blonde hair went past her waist, as Niënor’s once did. “Your hands are clenching. Am I that tempting?” Finduilas asked. 

“You know you are.”

“I thought about you during the council.” Niënor could just barely see Finduilas’s smile as she unrolled her leggings and took off her shoes, her hair falling forward to hide her body. “In between all the arguments about sheep.”

“It was cattle, sire.”

Discarding the last of her clothes, Finduilas leaned against the vanity, arms akimbo. “As you can see, I was listening quite closely. Will you, my trusted adviser and guard, inspect my arse?”

Niënor tried to keep her face serious as she replied, “It’s against court etiquette to stay clothed in the presence of a naked monarch.”

Finduilas raised one eyebrow. “That it is.”

Thought she ought to return Finduilas’s teasing favour with a show of her own, Niënor was too impatient, shedding her clothes so quickly that Finduilas laughed again. This time Finduilas let Niënor do as she wished. Niënor could not resist looking at their reflection—Finduilas’s head only barely reached Niënor’s shoulders—before she bent to kiss her. Finduilas pulled her closer, guiding Niënor’s hands to hold her by the waist as she greedily swiped her tongue against Niënor’s. It was almost enough to make Niënor discard the game and drop to her knees so she could press her mouth between Finduilas’s legs.  

But Finduilas would be disappointed. Niënor turned Finduilas around, presenting her front to the mirror and the disputed arse to Niënor. Finduilas’s eyes were as drawn to the reflection as Niënor’s.

“You make me feel so small,” Finduilas said.

“Short, yes, but not smaller everywhere,” Niënor replied, dragging her hands up Finduilas’s side and cupping her breasts, giving one nipple a flick. Finduilas gasped and pushed back against her.

“You forget your mission.”

“As you wish.”

It seemed almost unfair, that Finduilas and Niënor had found happiness together when so much else was dark. A year had passed before either of them cared to laugh or smile, but it was so easy now. They had healed each other instead of kneeling to their fate. Niënor kissed her way down Finduilas’s neck, letting her short hair tickle Finduilas’s shoulder as she nipped at her back. Turning her attention back to their game, Niënor squeezed Finduilas’s rear.

“Ah, very good. Firm, yet yielding,” Niënor said, while Finduilas bit her lip to keep from chuckling. “But a deeper inspection is needed.” Niënor briefly slipped her fingers into Finduilas’s sex, already wet from what little they had done. Finduilas sighed and spread her legs, arching against Niënor as she met her eyes in the mirror.

“Use the device,” Finduilas asked. “It’s in the drawer to my left.”

She jerked the drawer open, too aroused for any grace. ‘The device,’ as Finduilas coyly called it, was a harness for wearing a dildo. Niënor fumbled with the straps while Finduilas distractingly rubbed against her, but she immediately stilled while Niënor attached the dildo. Finduilas’s breathing came faster, and when Niënor lightly traced her fingers over Finduilas’s sex one final time, she shivered. Niënor moved further back, circling her arsehole with slickened fingers before carefully pressing one inside.

“Please, yes, I love this,” she said, already almost incoherent. “Another.”

“Do you want me to fetch some oil?” Niënor asked as she obeyed.

Her eyes shut with pleasure, Finduilas shook her head. “I don’t want to wait.”

Finduilas hardly ever swore. Niënor spat in her hand so she could moisten the dildo. Then she moved it into place, relishing the view of Finduilas’s face as she entered her. She used her hand to guide the dildo while Finduilas wiggled her hips, tightly gripping the vanity’s edge as they moved together. When Niënor was fully inside, the harness flush with Finduilas’s skin, she kissed Finduilas again, slowly thrusting into her. Finduilas moaned, clumsily returning the kiss. Niënor gathered Finduilas’s hair in her fist, exposing her back so Niënor could watch herself taking Finduilas.

“Harder,” Finduilas pleaded. “Show me how strong you are.”

“I would break you.”

“You wouldn’t. Please, Niënor.”

Niënor spread more spit over the dildo before she thrust back into Finduilas with a quick snap of her hips. Finduilas’s gasp was all Niënor needed to start putting a little of her strength into her movements, shoving Finduilas forward until the vanity shook. Niënor was desperate to bring Finduilas over the edge at the same time she wanted to stay as they were for hours. Her own sex was throbbing as the dildo’s base kept grazing against her clit and every noise Finduilas made, the sight of her panting and wanton with her gaze still focused on Finduilas, triggered a fresh pang of arousal. Niënor held the heel of her palm to Finduilas’s sex, letting her grind against it as Niënor fucked her. Finduilas moaned, her eyes tightly shut. Her legs were shaking so much that Niënor steadied her with her free hand as Finduilas climaxed with a loud cry.

Feeling almost spent herself, Niënor rested for a few moments against Finduilas’s back. Soon Finduilas was turning around, undoing the harness and rubbing her fingers over Niënor’s overstimulated clit. Niënor swayed forward, letting Finduilas support her weight as she started to come. Finduilas kept stroking her, pressing light kisses along the line of Niënor’s neck and shoulders. Niënor resisted the urge to go limp in Finduilas’s arms; instead, she took Finduilas by the hand and led her back towards the bed so they could collapse together onto the soft mattress.

“Did I pass inspection?” Finduilas asked.

“What?” Then Niënor remembered their whole ridiculous act and snorted. “Very well—your hairless Elven arse is the pinnacle of its kind, and no others can compare.”

“That is not very poetic.”

“Have you forgotten that I am a mere savage woodland maiden?” How happy she was, to finally be no one at all, free of the doom of her name. “I know nothing of poetry.”

Finduilas embraced her tightly. “My savage woodland maiden.”  

“And you are my king.”

Niënor tucked her arm around Finduilas’s waist and entwined their legs together, wishing to be closer. They were each other’s shield, strong against the monsters at the door.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for being someone I could trust to enjoy this woman-on-woman anal as much as I did.


End file.
